The Breakfast Club: McKinley High Edition
by thewriterfromRavenclaw
Summary: You see us as you want to see us: in the simplest terms, and the most convenient definitions. You see us as a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a prince, and a criminal. Correct? That's the way we saw each other at seven o'clock this morning. We were brainwashed... an AU featuring Rachel Berry, Mike Chang, Tina Cohen-Chang, Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel. Klaine and Tike pairing.


**Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, do not own any of the characters, scripts, rights (etc, etc) belonging to either _The Breakfast Club _or _Glee_. This is purely a fan-made thing.**

**I spent a lot of time thinking about and putting together this fanfiction and, two weeks later, here it is. I tried to keep it as close as possible to the original, but I did change a few things, and I hope you enjoy my interpretation of this classic movie, _Glee _style.  
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**Additional note: as I was watching the Breakfast Club while writing this, I may have left in original character names or not changed the pronouns for Rachel (as Brian plays the Brain in the movie) or Blaine (as Claire plays the Princess in the movie). Feel free to message me or whatever if you notice a mistake. It would be better than leaving it there, and I won't be mad.**

* * *

The "Brain": RACHEL BERRY

The "Athlete": MIKE CHANG

The "Basket Case": TINA COHEN-CHANG

The "Prince": BLAINE ANDERSON

The "Criminal": KURT HUMMEL

The Principal: COOTER MENKINS

The Janitor: WILL SCHUESTER

* * *

_"...and these children that you spit on, as they try to change their worlds are immune to your consultations. They're quite aware of what they're going through..."_

_- David Bowie_

* * *

_Saturday, March 24, 2012. McKinley High School, Lima, Ohio. 45801._

* * *

"I can't believe you can't get me out of this," Blaine complains to his father as they sit in the front of his dad's cherry 1959 Chevy in the parking lot. "I mean, it's so absurd I have to be here on a Saturday! It's not like I'm a defective or anything..."

His father sighs slightly, and turns in his seat to face his son. "I'll make it up to you… Blaine, ditching class to go shopping doesn't make you a defective." He hands Blaine a white bag – coincidentally from said shopping trip – with a lunch inside. "Have a good day," he says, putting his arm on his son's shoulder.

Blaine rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he gets out of the car. He slams the passenger door behind him, and doesn't look back as he walks up the front steps of the school.

* * *

"Is this the first or the last time we do this?" Hiram Berry asks his daughter sternly when pull up in front of the school.

"Last," Rachel answers dejectedly, avoiding her father's eyes.

"Well, get in there and use the time to your advantage."

"Dad, we're not supposed to study or anything, we just have to sit there and do nothing," Rachel protests.

"Well, missy, you figure out a way to study," her dad tells her, and Rachel doesn't know what to say back. She stays silent, and her father becomes increasingly more impatient. "Well, go!" Hiram instructs her, irritated.

* * *

"Hey, I was a teenager once. Teens mess around, there's nothing wrong with that, son. Except you got caught, Michael."

"Yeah, Mom already reemed me, alright?" Mike tries not to let the frustration show in his voice, but it's never easy to do around his father, and a Saturday detention just makes things worse.

"Do you want to miss a football match? Want to ruin your chances of going to university?" Mike shakes his head, looking down at the floor mat in the passenger's seat. "No school's going to give a scholarship to a discipline case," his father informs him, voice strict.

Mike meets his dad's gaze and opens his mouth to say something, but closes it quickly. He gets out of the truck silently, slamming the door behind him with a bit more force than necessary.

* * *

Tina Cohen-Chang sits in the back of her parents' car, silent as usual, dressed in her all-black, gothic attire. As they pull into the lot, her dad puts on the brakes abruptly, as some guy with tousled hair, a face full of piercings and a black leather jacket crosses right in front of the car's path, either distracted or unconcerned.

"Jackass!" her dad swears under his breath. It was the first word he'd said the entire trip, and it hadn't even been directed at her.

She gets out of the car, wordlessly, but leans over to look into the car windows and say goodbye to her dad before she heads into the school. He apparently didn't notice, however, because the car starts to drive away before she can even get a word out.

* * *

By the time Rachel gets to the library, Blaine is the only one already there. She almost takes the seat beside him, but she's worried she'll make a fool out of herself by talking to him. She takes one of the seats in the row behind him, straightening her skirt as she sits down.

Mike hesitates as he makes his way to where Blaine is sitting. They aren't exactly _friends, _but Mike knows Blaine well enough to sit next to him in detention for just one day. He motions to the chair at the end of the row of three, asking permission to sit there without actually speaking. He shrugs in response, which is good enough for him, so he takes a seat.

As Kurt strides in, he purposefully knocks the phone on the librarian's desk over, and steals a random pad of paper lying next to it. He notices the others staring at him, so he takes off his sunglasses, eyeing the rest of them with sharp blue eyes.

He walks over to the precise spot where Rachel is sitting, and points for her to move to the table on the opposite side of the library. Rachel is, of course, unhappy about this, but one stare-down from this kid tells her she'd better not say anything.

As Kurt grabs Rachel's old spot, he pulls up an extra chair for him to put his feet up on.

Tina is the last one to come in, keeping her head down and heading automatically to the seat in the very back, behind Rachel. She faces away from the others, who are puzzled by this strange girl most of them have never seen before in their lives.

Mike looks over to Blaine and snickers quietly, wondering what this girl's problem is. Rachel just looks confused.

The principal of McKinley High then walks in: Cooter Menkins. He eyes the kids with a hint of resentment. Evidently, he's not happy to be there on a Saturday.

"Well, well. Here we are!" he greets them, but it's not a very happy greeting. "I want to congratulate you for being on time."

Blaine hesitates before putting his hand up. "Excuse me, sir?" he asks. "I think there's been a mistake. I know it's detention, but, um, I don't think I belong in _here._"

Cooter looks at him for a second, but ultimately ignores him, raising his arm up so he can read the time on his watch.

"It is now 7:06," he tells them, and Rachel rushes to double-check his math on her own watch – they weren't allowed bringing their cell phones to detention.

"You have exactly eight hours and fifty-four minutes to think about why you're here," he tells them, as if they didn't already know why they were in detention. "To ponder the error of your ways."

From the back, Kurt takes out a switchblade and starts surveying his nails, treating the blade like a nail file. Blaine, who has turned around to look at him, rolls his eyes and turns to face the front again.

"You may not talk." Cooter tells them, gesturing to the two in the room who actually know each other well enough to converse. "You will not move from these seats." He walks over to Kurt now, looking him in the eyes. "And you." He pulls the chair from under Kurt's feet. "Will not sleep."

He addresses all five of them then. "Alright, people, we're gonna try something a little different today. We are going to write an essay." He starts handing out papers and pencils to the students. "Of no less than a thousand words, describing to me who you think you are."

"Is this a test?" Kurt teases.

Cooter chooses to ignore him. "And when I say essay," he clarifies, "I mean essay. I do not mean a single word repeated a thousand times. Is that clear Mr. Hummel?"

Kurt puts his feet up again, this time on the desk in front of him. "Crystal," he tells Cooter.

"Good. Maybe you'll learn a little something about yourself. Maybe you'll even decide whether or not you care to return."

Rachel stands up, addressing Cooter. "You know, I can answer that right now, sir. That'd be 'no', 'no' for me, because-"

Cooter looks at the girl as if she were dirt. "Sit down, Berry," he tells her, and she complies.

"Thank you, sir."

"My office," Cooter continues, pointing to the door of the library, "is right across that hall. Any monkey business is ill-advised." He looks around at them. "Any questions?"

"Yeah. I got a question." Kurt speaks up. Cooter looks at him suspiciously, but doesn't say anything. "Does Taco Bell know you're the one eating all of their Grilled Chicken Burritos?"

"I'll give you the answer to that question, Mr. Hummel, next Saturday. Don't mess with the bull young man, you'll get the horns," he warns him before leaving.

"That man...is a brownie hound." Kurt states out loud, but no one really knows what to say.

With Cooter gone, the five of them try to get comfortable. Mike unbuttons his letterman jacket and lays back in his chair, while Rachel tries to think of what to write on her essay. She suddenly becomes aware of a snapping sound coming from where Tina is sitting, and she turns her head to the back. The others follow her lead, now all hearing the sound.

They see Tina, biting her nails rather aggressively, who can feel their stares as soon as they fall on her. She looks over to them, glaring at them all accusingly. Defiantly, she continues to bite her thumbnail.

"You keep eating your hand, and you're not gonna be hungry for lunch," Kurt says with mock worry. Tina spits the nail out, aiming in his direction.

"I've seen you before, you know," he continues, and the look on Tina's face is of pure shock, though she quickly turns away from Kurt.

It isn't very long before they all get bored with detention. Mike plays around with his pen, sticking on his bottom lip and trying to click it with the top of his open mouth.

"I am a walrus," he jokes, wondering if he'd get another Saturday detention if he wrote something stupid like that on his paper.

Kurt shoots him a look, and Mike laughs out of embarrassment. He takes the pen out of his mouth, and turns to face the front.

The Hummel boy then takes his feet off the table, removing his leather jacket at the same time. From the opposite row of tables, Rachel is taking off her red peacoat. The two notice each other, and freeze for a second.

Rachel, fairly afraid of Kurt at this point, decides to pull her jacket back on. She rubs her hands together, pretending to be cold, while Kurt takes his all the way off – revealing underneath a tight white T-shirt. Rachel pretends not to notice, looking back at her essay paper. She's only written her name so far.

Kurt crumples up his paper, already deciding not to write anything. He throws it forward, and it narrowly misses Blaine's head in front.

Blaine pretends not to notice, but has trouble ignoring Kurt when he burst out 'singing' the guitar's chords from _Sunshine of Your Love_.

"I can't believe this is really happening to me..." Blaine groans to Mike, who doesn't know what to say back.

"Oh, shit!" Hummel cusses abruptly, and Blaine turns to look at him. "What're we supposed to do if we have to take a piss?"

The others roll their eyes. "Oh, please," Blaine complains, turning back in his seat again.

Kurt shrugs. "If you gotta go… you gotta go." He begins to unzip his fly, and leans forward in his chair.

Blaine's eyes widen, and when he sees Kurt is actually about to piss, he's shocked. "Oh, my God," he exclaims quietly, turning back around so he doesn't see him.

Rachel peers over quietly, curious. She tilts her head slightly, and tries to catch a look of his penis.

Mike's head snaps back to Kurt instantly. "Hey, you're not urinating in here, man! You whip it out and you're dead before the first drop hits the floor!" he shouts, and Kurt smirks in amusement.

"You're pretty sexy when you get angry." Kurt taunts, growling at the jock. "Hey, sweets," he calls to Rachel, "why don't you go close that door. We'll get the prom king to knock ya up."

Rachel is confused, not understanding what Kurt is talking about, but Blaine turns to glare at him.

"Hey!" Mike yells at Kurt, who ignores him. "Hey!" he tries again.

"What?" Kurt snaps, annoyed.

"Leave them alone! If I lose my temper, you're dead, man!" he warns him, but Kurt doesn't seem to care.

Blaine's next to interject. "Why don't you just shut up! Nobody here is interested!"

Kurt pretends to look dejected, and Mike leaves him alone again. "Buttface," he mutters to Blaine, who rolls his eyes.

"Well, hey, Sporto!" Kurt calls Mike again, "what'd you do to get in here? Forget to wash your jock?"

"Uh, excuse me, guys. I think we should just write our papers..." Rachel suggests, trying to mediate the situation, but she is ignored by the others.

"Look," Mike spits back at Kurt, "just because you live in here doesn't give you the right to be a pain in the ass, so knock it off!"

Kurt shrugs. "It's a free country," he states.

"He's just doing it to get a rise out of you!" Blaine tells Mike. "Just ignore him."

Kurt pulls a hand through his hair, and addresses Blaine this time. "Sweets," he tells him, looking at Blaine as if he were a dessert, "you couldn't ignore me if you tried."

Blaine rolls his eyes again, and went back to facing the front of the library.

"So," Kurt continues. "So! I heard you sticking up for Goodie-Two-Shoes over there, Sporto. Are you guys like boyfriend, girl-friend?" he asks. When Mike ignores him, he continues, his voice low and sultry. "Steady dates? _Lovers_?"

Rachel looks over, but she doesn't say anything. She's not sure what to say.

"Come on, pal, level with me," he persists. "Do you slip her the hot beef _injection_?"

Simultaneously, Blaine and Mike turn around to face Kurt, both of them screaming.

"Leave him alone!" Blaine shouts.

"Go to hell!" Mike yells, even louder. "I don't even know her!" he adds, as a bit of an afterthought.

"Hey!" They hear Principal Menkins yell from across the hall. "What's going on in there?" But he makes no effort to get up and check on them, so Kurt carries on.

He stands up, and makes himself a new seat on the railing near the tables. "What do you say we close that door?" he suggests, pointing over to the library entrance. "We can't have any kind of party with Menkins checking us out every few seconds."

"Well, you know the door's supposed to stay open..." Rachel speaks up again, slightly reluctantly.

"So what?"

Mike is quick to speak up against Kurt. "So, why don't you just shut up? There's four other people in here, you know."

"God, you can count," Kurt taunts him. "See! I knew you had to be smart to be a football player."

"Who the hell are you to judge anybody, anyway?" Mike mutters, and Blaine pipes in agreement.

"Really."

"You know, Hummel?" Mike presses, "you don't even count. I mean, if you disappeared forever, it wouldn't make any difference. You may as well not even exist at this school."

Kurt pauses for a minute, considering this, but as far as anyone could tell, the words don't sink in. "Well," he says slowly. "I'll just run right out and join the football team, then. Maybe the Thunderclap committee, too! Student council…"

Blaine and Mike laugh together. "No, they wouldn't take you," Mike points out.

"I'm hurt." Kurt says, but the look on his face is anything but.

"You know why guys like you knock everything?" Blaine speaks up, and Kurt's eyes roll.

"Oh, this should be stunning," he says sarcastically.

"It's 'cause you're afraid. You're a big coward!"

He gasps. "Oh, God! You ritchies are so smart, that's_ exactly_ why I'm not heavy in activities!"

"I'm in the Speech Club," Rachel interjects, to no one in particular.

Blaine ignores her. "See, you're afraid that they won't take you. You don't belong, so you just have to dump all over it."

Kurt thinks about this, and takes a deep breath before he answers back. "Well, it wouldn't have anything to do with you activities people being _assholes_, now would it?"

"Well, you wouldn't know," he points out to the other boy, "you don't even know any of us."

"I don't know any lepers, either," Kurt points out, "but I'm not gonna run out and join one of their fucking clubs."

"Hey, let's watch the mouth, huh?" Mike warns him.

Rachel speaks up again. "I'm in the Renaissance Club, too."

"'Scuse me a sec," Kurt tells the two in the front, and turns to Rachel. "What are you babbling about?" he asks her.

"Well, what I said was… I'm in a lot of clubs. I'm in the Glee Club, Speech Club, the Mock United Nations Club, the Muslim Students Club, the Black Student Union, and the Renaissance Club."

Kurt nods, choosing to ignore the fact that a white, Jewish girl would be part of such clubs. He turns back to Blaine. "Hey, Gel-head," he addresses him, "do _you _belong to the Speech Club?"

Blaine makes a face. "That's an academic club," he says, a trace of annoyance in his voice. "They're not the same as other kinds of clubs."

"Oh, but to dorks like her…" Kurt points to Rachel. "They are." He turns his attention to Rachel. "What do you guys do in your club?" he asks.

Rachel looks flustered. "In Speech Club, we, ah, we make speeches about certain themes… themes that have to do with world issues," she tells him.

"So, it's sort of social." Kurt states. "Demented, and sad, mind you, but social. Right?" he asks Blaine the question, but it's Rachel who responds.

"Yeah, well, I guess you could consider it a social situation. I mean, there are other children in my club and uh, at the end of the year we have, um, you know, a big banquet, at the, uh, at the Hilton."

Kurt nods. "You load up, you party…"

"Well, no," Rachel corrects him, "We get dressed up. And we present our speeches to our parents. But we… we don't get high."

"Only burners like you get high," Blaine says with distaste, looking at Kurt.

"And, uh, I couldn't find any dresses that fit me," Rachel continues, not quite catching on to the situation, "And neither of my parents know how to sew, so I ended up having to take the dress to a tailor. It was kinda weird, 'cause she ended up messing up on my arm measurements, and the dress was really loose there. And, uh, my cousin Leon… my cousin Leon… He got high once and you know, he started eating, like, really weird foods. And, uh, and then he just felt like he didn't belong anywhere. You know, kinda like, you know, _Twilight Zone_ kinda."

Blaine chuckles. "Sounds like you," he tells the Hummel boy.

"Look, you guys keep up your talking and Menkins is gonna come right in here," Mike warns them all. "I got a game this Saturday, and I'm not gonna miss it on account of you boneheads."

Kurt pretends to be empathetic. "Oh, and wouldn't that be a bite," he teases, and lets out a fake moan of agony. "Missing a whole football game!"

Mike stares him down. "Well, you wouldn't know anything about it, jackass!" he tells him. "You never competed in your whole life!"

Kurt couldn't hide the wide grin on his face. "Oh, I know," he says, "I feel all empty inside because of it. After all, I have such a deep admiration for guys that spend so much of their time trying to nail other guys to the ground!"

Before Mike can spit out a remark back, they hear the principal outside, in the hall. With a sly smirk, Hummel runs over to the chair between Blaine and Mike, and sits down, folding his hands in front of him like an attentive schoolgirl.

When he was sure the coast was clear, he got up, and strode towards the doors separating them from Menkins.

"You know there's not supposed to be any monkey business," Rachel tells him cautiously.

He turns back to her and points at her sternly. "Young lady," he says in a fair imitation of Mr. Menkins, "have you finished your paper?" He reaches the doors, and, after checking to make sure the principal wasn't able to see him, he begins messing with the bolt that held the door open.

"C'mon, Hummel, don't screw around," Mike shouts from across the library.

Blaine looks slightly concerned, but doesn't get up to stop Kurt. "What are you gonna do?" he questions.

"Drop dead, I hope," responds Mike.

"Er… Hummel?" Rachel says, not quite sure what the boy's first name is, "That's school property, you know, it doesn't belong to us. It's something not to be toyed with."

He keeps working on the door. After a couple of seconds, something falls loose, and the door slams shut loudly. As he makes his way back to his seat, Kurt stuffs whatever came out of the door into his jean pockets.

"That's very funny, Hummel. Come on, fix it!" Mike tells him.

Rachel echoes his sentiment. "You should really fix that!"

"Am I a genius?" Kurt asks.

"No, you're an asshole," Mike tells him.

"What a funny guy," Kurt jokes.

Mike starts shouting. "Fix the door, Hummel!"

Kurt shushes him, aware that if Mike doesn't quiet down, Menkins would be there in five seconds flat. "I've been here before, I know what I'm doing!"

"No!" Mike doesn't lower his volume at all. "Fix the door, get up there and fix it!"

"Shut up!" Kurt screams, his voice going up an octave. Ultimately, that's what catches Menkins' attention.

"God damnit!" he shouts, making his way to the library. He notices Hummel's latest shenanigan, and he storms into the library. "Why is that door closed?" he asks the five of them.

No one says anything right away, so Menkins shouts the question again, even louder this time.

"How are we supposed to know? We're not supposed to move, right?" Kurt points out.

Menkins' eyes wander to Blaine. "Why?" he shouts at him, and Blaine is stunned for a minute, trying to think of what to say.

"We were just sitting here," he tells him, "like we were supposed to."

Menkins walks towards them, stopping in front of Rachel. "Who closed that door?" he asks, knowing that if anyone would tell, it would be the brown-noser.

Before she can say anything, Hummel speaks up again. "I think a screw fell out of it," he suggests, and Mike helps him out.

"It just closed, sir," he verifies.

Not convinced, Menkins turns his gaze to Tina in the back. "Who?" he shouts.

Tina squeaks, alarmed, and drops her head onto the desk.

"She doesn't talk, sir," Kurt informs him. To confirm this, Tina squeaks again.

Cooter turns back to Kurt. "Give me the screw, Hummel."

"I don't have it," Kurt lies.

Menkins' jaw clenches. "You want me to yank you out of that seat and shake it out of you?" he threatens.

"I don't have it," he repeats. "Screws fall out all of the time. The world's an imperfect place."

Cooter isn't falling for it. "Give it to me."

Just then, Blaine speaks up. "Excuse me, sir, why would anybody want to steal a screw?"

"Watch it, Anderson," Menkins warns him as he makes his way over to the door to fix it. He grabs a nearby chair, and places it in front of the door to hold it open.

"The door's way too heavy, sir," Kurt advises Cooter, who ignores him.

True to his word, though, the door slams shut, knocking the chair away.

"God damnit!" They hear Menkins shout from outside the library, and suppress their laughter enough so that the principal doesn't notice when he comes back in.

"Michael Chang," he calls the football player, "get up here. Come on, front and center, let's go."

Mike rolls his eyes a bit, takes a long breath, and makes his way over to the door.

"Hey, how come Mike gets to get up?" Kurt protests. "If he gets up, we'll all get up, it'll be anarchy!"

Cooter and Mike pick up a steel magazine rack, and begin to move it in front of the door.

"Okay, now, watch the magazines!" Menkins instructs him.

Kurt sighs. "It's out of my hands."

Mike, now in the hallway behind the magazine rack, tries to get back in. He slips, and falls on top of it, scattering the magazines everywhere. Cooter doesn't offer him a hand as he tries to get back up.

"That's very clever, sir, but what if there's a fire?" Kurt points out from his seat. "I think violating fire codes and endangering the lives of children would be unwise at this juncture in your career, sir."

Menkins thinks about this. "Alright," he says, turning back to Mike, "What are you doing with this? Get this out of here, for God's sake!" The insults to Mike only worsen. "What's the matter with you? Come on!" he shouts, going back to lift up the magazine rack.

"You know," Rachel points out, "the school comes equipped with fire exits at either end of the library."

Kurt glares at her, effectively shutting her up.

"Let's go," Menkins instructs Mike when the rack is back in its proper place. "Go! Get back into your seat." He pushes him towards the tables, and Mike takes his seat back.

"I expected a little more from a varsity letterman!" he tells Mike, who stares back at him quietly. Cooter then directs his attention back to Kurt. "You're not fooling anybody, Hummel! The next screw that falls out is gonna be you!"

As the man turns to leave, Kurt mutters something. Menkins stops in his track and turns back to him.

"What was that, Hummel?" he asks.

Kurt stares him right in the eyes. "Suck. My. Dick."

"You just bought yourself another Saturday, mister!"

Kurt lets out a breath. "Ah, I'm crushed."

"You just bought one more right there!" Cooter tells him.

"Well, I'm free the Saturday after that," Kurt offers, "Beyond that, I'm gonna have to check my calendar."

"Good!" Menkins shouts, "because it's going to be filled, we'll keep going! You want another one?" he asks. "Say the word, just say the word! Instead of going to prison, you'll come here!" Kurt looks down at the table, silent. "Are you through?"

Kurt meets his gaze again, expression unreadable. "No!"

"I'm doing society a favour!" Cooter tells him.

"So?" Kurt spits back, crossing his arms.

"That's another one, right now! I've got you for the rest of your natural born life if you don't watch your step! You want another one?"

"Yes!" Kurt tells him, refusing to give in.

"Then you got it! You got another one, right there! That's another one, pal!" Menkins shouts back at him.

"Cut it out!" Blaine tells the Hummel boy, shocked by his casual insubordination. Kurt's head snaps to Blaine, who mouths the word 'stop' at him.

"You through?" Menkins asks, demanding his attention again.

Kurt's teeth clench. "Not even close, _bud_!"

"Good!" Cooter shouts, pointing at him. "Because you got one more, right there!"

"Do you really think I give a shit?" he asks.

"Another." Cooter declares. Kurt stares back at him. "You through?"

Kurt tilts his head a bit. "How many is that?"

Rachel then decides to butt in. "That's seven," she informs him, "including the one when we first came in, and you asked Mr. Menkins here whether Taco Bell knew where their burritos were going."

"Now it's eight." Cooter tells Kurt, and then turns to Rachel. "You stay out of it!"

"Excuse me, sir," she argues, "it's seven!"

"Shut up, Hobbit!" he tells Rachel, before turning his attention back to Kurt. "You're mine, Hummel. For two months, I've gotcha! I've gotcha!"

Kurt leans back in his chair. "What can I say? I'm thrilled!"

"Oh, I'm sure that's exactly what you want these people to believe," Menkins remarks. "You know something, Hummel? You ought to spend a little more time trying to do something with yourself and a little less time trying to impress people. You might be better off." He turns to face the rest of the group.

"Alright, that's it! I'm going to be right outside those doors. The next time I have to come in here, I'm cracking skulls," he informs them. Being accustomed to this usual line, Kurt mouths the last part alongside him.

As he heads towards the door, Tina lifts her head back up cautiously. Kurt focuses his gaze on Cooter, and soon as the door to the library shuts behind him, Kurt screams out a loud, "Fuck you!"

Cooter, of course, hears this, but he chooses to ignore it, letting out a sigh as he heads back to his office.

"Fuck," Kurt mutters to himself angrily.

* * *

The time passes no quicker than it did at the start of their detention. The teens think of ways to entertain themselves – besides, of course, writing their essays. Kurt lights up the bottom of his boot, bringing it to his mouth to lit a cigarette. Blaine begins to daydream, about foreign countries and a thousand things more exciting than Saturday detention. Mike tries to play a game of paper football with himself. Ultimately, though, boredom hangs around them, and they all eventually drift off to sleep.

"Wake up!" Cooter shouts at them when comes back into the library later. No one moves.

He tries again. "Who has to go to the lavatory?" he asks.

It seems to work, as all of their hands shoot into the air.

* * *

They're feeling more comfortable when they come back into the library, and not all of them go back to their seats immediately. Blaine opts to, deciding to finally start on that essay. Tina also sits at her spot in the very back, not having talked to anyone once so far.

Kurt sits on a bookshelf by the tables, tearing pages out of a book and tossing them around.

"That's real intelligent," Mike comments sarcastically.

"You're right," Kurt tells him as he continues to tear up the book. "It's wrong to destroy literature. It's such fun to read, and…" He looks at the book he's ripping apart. "Molet really pumps my nads!"

Blaine bites his lip to keep from smiling. "Mol-yare," he corrects. Kurt stares at him in disbelief, and Blaine can't help but grin.

"I love his work," Rachel pipes up.

Ripping out a handful of pages, Kurt tosses them at Rachel. Putting the book aside, he begins to play with the ancient card catalogue system the library still has. "Big deal," he says, putting the cards out of order in the holder. "Nothing to do when you're locked in a vacancy."

"Speak for yourself," Mike tells him, stopping the stretching he'd been doing on the railing.

"Do you think I'd speak for you?" Kurt asks him, serious. "I don't even know your language!"

Mike then turns to Blaine. "Hey, you grounded tonight?" he asks.

Blaine shrugs in response. "I don't know. My mom said I was, but my dad told me to just blow her off."

"Big party at Puckerman's tonight," he informs him. "Parents are in Europe. Should be pretty wild. Can you go?"

Blaine looks at the table for a second, thinking. "I doubt it," he says, honest.

"How come?"

He takes a deep breath before answering. "Well, because if I do what my mother tells me not to do, it's because my father says it's okay. There's like this whole big monster deal; it's endless and it's a total drag. It's like any minute... divorce." Blaine says this rather casually, which makes Kurt look up.

"Who do you like better?" he asks him.

Blaine looks caught off-guard. "What?"

Kurt repeats the question. "You like your old man better than your mom?"

"They're both screwed," Blaine tells him.

"No, I mean, if you had to choose between them," Kurt clarifies for him.

He thinks about this for a second. "I dunno." Blaine shrugs, looking down. "I'd probably go live with my older brother." He meets Kurt's eyes again. "I mean, I don't think either one of them gives a shit about me. It's like they use me just to get back at each other."

Suddenly, from the back, Tina shouts out, "HA!"

Everyone looks at her, shock registered on their faces. Tina just grins in response.

"Shut up!" Blaine tells her, visibly both hurt and angry.

Mike turns to face Blaine, a slight smile on his lips. "You're just feeling sorry for yourself," he tells him.

"Yeah, well, if I didn't, nobody else would," Blaine points out.

"Aw, you're breaking my heart."

Kurt cocks his head to the side slightly. "Sporto?" he says, addressing Mike.

"What?" Mike asks him, annoyed.

Kurt throws away the cards he's playing with and jumps off the bookshelf so he's right next to Mike. "You get along with your parents?|" he asks, pretty sure he knows the answer already.

Mike knows what he's playing at. "Well, if I say yes, I'm an idiot, right?"

"You're an idiot anyway," Kurt confirms, "But if you say you get along with your parents, well, you're a liar, too!"

The two of them stare each other down for a minute, until the Hummel boy turns and walks away from him. Mike follows after him, giving him a shove. Kurt turns around, irritated.

"You know something, man," he tells Kurt aggressively, "If we weren't in school right now, I'd waste you!"

"Can you hear this?" Kurt asks, pointing his middle finger to the floor. "Want me to _turn it up_?" He smiles as he flips his hand around slowly, so that he's giving him the bird.

Rachel comes over between the two of them, and cautiously puts her hands on their shoulders. "Hey, you guys, I mean…"

The two of them, still staring at each other in anger, both push away from Rachel's hands. She tries again.

"I don't like my parents, either," she confesses. "I don't… I don't get along with them. Their idea of parental compassion is just, you know, wacko!"

Mike rolls his eyes, and walks past Rachel to sit down at one of the tables.

"Dork," Kurt tells Rachel, "you are a parent's wet dream, okay?" He gives her a few pats on the arm, and starts to walk away.

"Well, that's the problem!" Rachel cries out.

"Look," Kurt says, his patience wearing a little, "I can see you getting all bunged up for them making you wear these kinda clothes," he says, gesturing to Rachel's outrageous reindeer sweater and plaid skirt, "But face it, you're a regular dweeb! What would you be doing if you weren't out making yourself a better citizen?"

From behind him, Mike speaks up. "Why do you have to insult everybody?"

Kurt bites his lip. "I'm being honest, asshole I would expect _you_ to know the difference."

"Yeah, well, she's got a name!" Mike says, defending Rachel.

Kurt pretends to be shocked. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He pauses, and turns to Rachel. "What's your name?"

Rachel looks up at Mike. "Rachel…" she says, quietly.

"See?" Mike tells Kurt, who starts walking away to the front of the room.

"My condolences," he tells Rachel as he passes by her.

Blaine looks over to the Hummel boy. "What's your name?" he asks.

"Well, what's yours?"

Blaine tells him.

"Blaine?" Kurt repeats, testing it out. "That's a real masculine name right there, Blaine," he comments sarcastically.

Blaine sticks his middle finger up at Kurt.

Kurt laughs. "Oh, such an obscene finger gesture from such a pristine little boy!"

"I'm not that pristine!" Blaine says in self-defense.

"Oh?" Kurt says, bending down close enough to Blaine that he can count the number of piercings on Kurt's face clearly. "Are you a virgin?" he asks Blaine.

Blaine narrows his eyes, but Kurt continues.

"I'll bet you a million dollars that you are! Is it gonna be a… _white wedding_?"

"Why don't you just shut up?" Blaine tells him, but of course, Hummel does no such thing.

"Have you ever kissed a girl on the mouth? Have you ever felt her up?" He sees the look of discomfort on Blaine's face, which only encourages him more. "Over the bra, under the blouse, shoes off...hoping to God her parents don't walk in on you?"

"Do you want me to puke?" he asks Kurt.

Kurt smirks. "Or better yet," he says, "have _you _ever been felt up? Her hand on your junk, while your pants lay draped across the front seat, past eleven on a school night?"

"Leave him alone!" Mike speaks out. Kurt stands up to face him.

Mike walks closer towards him. "I said, leave him alone!"

Kurt accepts the challenge. "You gonna make me?"

"Yeah."

Everyone else watches as Kurt makes his way over to Mike.

"You and how many of your little football friends?" he taunts, the two of them only inches apart now.

"Just me," Mike tells him, "just you and me. Two hits. Me hitting you, you hitting the floor. Anytime you're ready, pal!" He doesn't back down, confidence in his voice, and Kurt tries to hit him, but Mike takes his arms and locks them behind him, pinning him to the ground like a wrestler.

His face on the ground, Kurt's voice sounds muffled. "I don't wanna get into to this with you, man."

Mike lets him go, standing up. "Why not?" he asks.

Kurt gets up as well, brushing the dirt off his jeans. "Because I'd kill you," he states simply, and puts his hands in his pockets. "It's real simple. I'd kill you, and your fucking parents would sue me, and it would be a big mess, and I don't care enough about you to bother."

"Chicken shit," Mike tells him, calling his bluff. He turns to walk away, but as he does this Hummel takes out a switchblade and opens it. The noise gets Mike's attention, and he turns around and watches as Kurt stabs it into a nearby table.

Mike pauses. "Let's end this right now. You don't talk to him, you don't look at him, and you don't even think about him! You understand me?" he orders, speaking about Blaine.

"Calm down. I'm trying to help him." Kurt mutters. His attention is turned away from the knife, which Tina takes out of the table and stashes in her bag.

Just then, the door opens. A curly-haired janitor makes his way into the library, pushing a garbage can and listening to loud music through his earphones. He looks over to the kids, and, noticing Rachel, takes an earbud out to great her.

"Hey, Rachel, how're you doing?" he asks her sincerely, but she looks embarrassed and doesn't acknowledge him.

Kurt turns to face Rachel. "Does your dad work here, Rachel?" Then, directing his attention to the janitor, he reads his nametag and then addresses him. "Uh… Will?"

Will looks up at him. "What?"

"Can I ask you a question?" he says, rather politely.

"Sure."

Kurt holds back a smile. "How does one become a janitor, exactly?"

Will looks as if he misheard him. "You wanna be a janitor?"

"No," Kurt tells him, "I just wanna know how one _becomes _a janitor, because Michael here," he says, pointing over to Mike, "is very interested in pursuing a career in the custodial arts."

"Oh, really?" Will says, fake surprise. He leans on the trash can in front of him. "Do you guys think I'm just some untouchable peasant? A servant? A peon, just because my wife's extravagant spending habits got me working two jobs? Huh?

"Maybe so," he admits, "but following a broom around after shitheads like you for as long as I have, I've learned a couple of things. I look through your letters. I look through your lockers."

Kurt's head snaps up in alarm as Will continues.

"I listen to your conversations. You don't know that, but I do. I am the eyes and ears of this institution, my friends." He turns to leave, finished talking to them. "By the way," he adds, "that clock's twenty minutes fast."

Everyone groans, except for Will, who laughs loudly as he pushes the can towards the door.

"Shit!" Rachel explains, checking her watch for the time.

* * *

At 11:30, Cooter comes back in the library, and walks in on the five of them whistling a marching tune. Hummel is the only one who continues whistling once they notice his arrival – changing the tune to a more depressing Beethoven piece.

He glares at Kurt. "Alright, girls," he says, addressing all five of them, "you have thirty minutes for lunch."

"Here?" Mike asks, astonished.

"Here," he confirms.

"Well," Mike prods, "I think the cafeteria would be a more suitable place for us to eat lunch in, sir."

"I don't care what you think, Michael." At least Menkins is being honest.

"Uh, Coots?" Kurt asks, getting the principal's attention. "Excuse me, Cooter… Will milk be made available to us?" he asks.

Mike nods. "We're extremely thirsty, sir."

"I have a very low tolerance for dehydration." Blaine adds.

Mike nods again. "I've seen him dehydrated, sir, it's pretty gross." This was, of course, a lie.

Kurt stands up, announcing to the rest of them, "Relax, I'll get it!"

"Ah, ah, ah, grab some wood there, bub!" Menkins tells him, and Kurt grins as he sits back down.

"Do you think I was born yesterday? You think I'm gonna have you roaming these halls?" Kurt nods sympathetically, and Cooter points to Mike. "You!"

Mike sighs, having been picked yet again, but he motions to Blaine, who straightens up in his seat, hoping Menkins will pick him to go with him.

"And you!" he calls to Tina in the back row, but she doesn't see as she's turned away from him.

"Hey!" he snaps. "What's her name? Wake her! Wake her up!" Tina turns to face him finally, and he begins ordering her. "Come on, on your feet missy! Let's go! This is no rest home!"

She scowls at him, putting her bag over her shoulder before she gets up.

"There's a soft drink machine in the teacher's lounge. Lets go!" he commands.

* * *

As Mike wanders down the hall, Tina following after him, he decides he should probably break the silence, see if he can get the girl to talk.

"So, what's your poison?" he asks, turning to her. She doesn't answer, so Mike tries again.

"What do you drink?" Still nothing. "Okay, forget I asked," he says, giving up.

There's a bit of silence. Then, Tina speaks up. "Vodka."

"Vodka?" Mike turns to look at her. "And when do you drink vodka?" He finds the girl rather funny, or at the very least, intriguing.

"Whenever," she says freely, strutting ahead of him.

Mike looks after her as she passes. "A lot?"

"Tons," she says, dragging the word out as if she was proud of herself.

"Is that why you're here today?" Mike jokes, but it occurs to him that he knows nothing about this girl. When Tina doesn't answer, he asks her again. "Why are you here?"

"Why are _you _here?" she shoots back at him. They stop walking.

Mike pauses for a minute, leans back against a wall. "Um. I'm here today because, uh, because both my coach and my father want me to get a scholarship. See, I get treated differently because, uh, Coach wants me to be a winner. So does my old man. I _am _a winner. I'm not a winner because I wanna be one. I'm a winner because I've got strength and speed. Kind of like a race horse." He chuckles, a little glumly. "That's about how involved I am in what's happening to me."

Tina nods. "Yeah? That's very interesting," she says solemnly. "Now why don't you tell me why you're really in here."

Mike shakes his head. "Forget it."

* * *

In the library, the remaining three were all sitting around waiting for Mike and Tina to get back.

"Blaine," Kurt calls to Blaine, looking up from the book he's reading. "Do you wanna see a picture of the girl who owns the world's largest breasts? 38KKK."

Blaine makes a face. "No, thank you…"

"Those boobs must get in the way of everything…" Kurt thinks out loud.

Blaine rolls his eyes, disgusted, but Kurt doesn't stop talking.

"Blaine, would you ever consider dating a girl like this?"

"Can't you just leave me alone?" Blaine asks, aggravated.

"I mean, if she had a great personality, and was a good kisser, and her dad bought her a cool car for her sixteenth…" He laughs. "Although, you'd probably have to ride in the back seat, 'cause her boobs would ride shotgun."

"You know what I wish I was doing?" Blaine asks, ignoring Kurt's comment altogether.

"Op," Kurt warns, "watch what you say. Rachel here is a cherry."

Rachel's startled. "A cherry?" she repeats.

"I wish I was on a plane to France," Blaine mutters, not entirely paying attention to the other two.

"I'm not a cherry," Rachel protests, whispering to Kurt.

Kurt rolls his eyes. "When have you ever gotten laid?"

"I've _laid _lots of times"

"Name one," he challenges her.

Rachel shrugs. "He lives in Canada, met him at Niagra Falls. You wouldn't know him."

"Ever laid anyone around here?" Kurt asks, not falling for it.

Rachel shushes him, pointing over to Blaine, who by this point has his back turned to them, absorbed in his own daydreaming.

"Oh!" Kurt exclaims. "You and Blaine _did it_!"

Blaine, having heard his name, spins around. "What are you talking about?" he demands to know.

"Nothing, nothing," Rachel tries to reassure him. She turns back to Kurt. "Let's just drop it, we'll talk about it later!"

"No!" Blaine says. "Drop _what_, what're you talking about?"

Kurt shrugs. "Well, Rachel's trying to tell me that in addition to the _number_ of boys in the Niagra Falls area, that presently you and she are riding the hobby horse!"

"Little pig!" Blaine shouts at him, and Rachel begins to panic.

"No, I'm not! I'm not!" she tells him. "Kurt said I was a cherry, and I said I wasn't. That's it, that's all that was said!"

Kurt pretends to be confused. "Well, then what were you motioning to Blaine for?"

"You know, I don't appreciate this very much, Rachel," Blaine tells her, unapproving.

Rachel points to Kurt. "He is lying!"

"Oh, you _weren't _motioning to Blaine?"

Rachel squirms a bit, uncomfortable. "You know he's lying, right?" she asks Blaine.

"Were you or were you not motioning to Blaine?"

Rachel looks down at the ground, defeated. "Yeah," she admits, "but it was only... was only because I didn't want her to know that I was a virgin, okay?"

Kurt just stares at him.

"Excuse me for being a virgin, I'm sorry." Rachel lashes at Kurt.

Blaine only laughs. "Why didn't you want me to know you were a virgin?" he asks her.

"Because, it's personal business," Rachel informs him, "it's my personal, private business."

"Well, Rachel," Kurt tells her, "it doesn't sound like you're doing _any _business."

Blaine ignores him. "I think it's okay for someone to be a virgin," he tells Rachel sincerely. Kurt looks over to him, surprised.

Rachel is surprised, too. "You do?" she asks in disbelief.

Blaine looks at Kurt first, then back to Rachel. He smiles reassuringly, and nods. Rachel smiles a little back.

* * *

When Tina and Mike return from the teachers' lounge, it's with their hands full of Coke cans. Tina leaves them on the table in the front before disappearing off to her usual seat in the back.

They all, save Kurt, begin to start on their lunches. Blaine pulls an even smaller brown bag out of his already-pretty-small shopping bag. Kurt looks over curiously.

"What's in there?" he inquires.

"Guess," Blaine says, irritated. He looks over at him. "Where's your lunch?"

The corners of Kurt's mouth turn up. "You're wearing it." He says, raising his pierced eyebrow slyly.

"You're nauseating." Blaine tells him, turning back to his lunch.

Kurt shrugs, grabbing a Coke from the table in front of him. He tosses towards Tina in the back, who manages to catch it without even looking up.

He watches as Blaine pulls his lunch out, and sets it on the table. "What's _that_?"

Blaine gives him a look. "Sushi," he states.

"_Sushi_?" Kurt is appalled that anyone would consider bringing such a meal to a Saturday detention.

"Rice, uh, raw fish, and seaweed." Blaine clarifies, pointing at each part of his lunch individually.

Kurt processes this, staring at the food. "You won't accept a girl's tongue in your mouth and you're gonna eat _that_?"

"Can I eat?"

Kurt's face is full of fake-worry. "I don't know," he warns him, "give it a try."

He then turns his attention to Mike, who is busy pulling food out of his lunch bag – a much larger, grocery-store-sized one: a full-sized bag of potato chips, three sandwiches, a bag of cookies, a carton of milk… Blaine looks over, curious, and his mouth opens in awe as it all keeps coming out.

Mike is about to put the bag away, but a couple of items catch his eye. He reaches in, and pulls out a banana, and an apple. He scoots his chair closer to the table and grabs a sandwich, unaware of the pairs of eyes that are on him. After his first sandwich, though, he finally notices.

"What's your problem?" he asks them.

As Tina opens her Coke, it begins to fizz over. She leans down, and loudly slurps it off the side of the can and the table. Opening her bologna sandwich, she makes a face of disgust. She tosses the meat behind her, and it lands on the top of the statue closer to the back of the library.

Rolling up her sleeves, she begins to make a few modifications to her sandwich: pixie stix, and some Cap'n Crunch cereal which she crushes with her hands.

Everyone watches her, both intrigued and repulsed. She notices their stares as she puts the sandwich up to her mouth, but it only makes her bite into it even harder.

Nobody really knows what to say after that. Kurt makes his way to where Rachel is sitting, and sits down beside her. "What are we having?" he asks her.

Rachel looks startled. "Uh, it's your standard, regular lunch I guess."

Kurt reaches into the bag and pulls out its contents: first, a thermos. He sets it down on the table. "Milk?" he asks.

"Soup," Rachel corrects him.

Kurt's hand goes in the bag again, and this time he pulls out a juice box. Rachel tries to grab the bag from him, but he slaps her hand.

"That's apple juice," she tells Kurt as he surveys the label.

"I can read!" He reaches into the bag once more, pulling out a sandwich. "PB and J with the crusts cut off…" he remarks. "Well, Rachel, this is a very nutritious lunch. All the food groups are represented. Did your mom marry Mr. Rogers?"

"Uh, no," she tells him. "I have two dads. And neither of them are Mr. Rogers."

"Ah." He says very quaintly, but there's a trace of something else in his eyes. He stands up, and makes his way to the centre of the group. "Here's my impression of life at little Rach's house," he announces to all of them.

"Rach!" he calls, changing his voice a little bit to make himself sound like a father might.

His impression of Rachel is a high-pitched, over-enthusiastic, squeaky-voiced one. "Yeah, Dad?"

"How's your day, baby girl?"

"Great, Dad, how's yours?"

"_Super_! Say, Rach, how'd you like to go to _New York _this weekend?"

"Great, Dad," Kurt's wide grin fades into a frown. "But I've got homework to do!"

"That's alright, you can do it in the car!"

"_Geee_!" he exclaims happily, mocking Rachel.

"Dear, isn't our daughter _swell_?" he says as Rachel's dad, pretending to talk to his husband.

"Yes, Dear. Isn't _life _swell?"

He mimes the two parents kissing each other before looking over to Rachel, and then punching the imaginary Mr. Berry in the face.

Rachel doesn't know what to say. She stays silent as Kurt goes to take a seat, and it's Mike who speaks up.

"Alright, what about your family?"

"Oh, mine?" he asks, pointing to himself.

Mike nods. "Yeah."

"That's really easy!" he stands up again, and begins to rub his chin the way a slob with little energy might. This time, the voice he uses to impersonate his own father is deep, like a full-grown man. He points, as if he were pointing to whoever was playing himself.

"Stupid, worthless, no good, God damned, freeloading son of a bitch. Retarded, bigmouth, know it all, asshole, faggot." On the last word, he sounds out every letter.

He takes a step back, and crosses his arms, now personifying his mother. "You forgot ugly, lazy and disrespectful cocks-," he says in a higher voice.

"Shut up, bitch!" he screams as his dad, slapping his invisible mother with his arm. "Go fix me a turkey pot pie!"

"What about you, Dad?" he says, appearing to be talking as himself.

"Fuck you!"

"No, Dad, what about you?"

His voice is threatening. "Fuck you!"

"No, Dad, what about you?" he starts screaming.

"_FUCK YOU!_" he shouts at the top of his lungs, and punches his pretend son. He then thrusts his own face, as if he were getting hit back.

Rachel's eyes are wide. "Is that for real?"

He snaps his head to look at her. "You wanna come over some time?"

"That's bullshit," Mike says, narrowing his eyes. "It's all part of your image, I don't believe a word of it."

"You don't believe me?" Kurt asks, jaw clenched.

"No."

"No?"

"Did I stutter?" Mike asks, glaring at him.

Kurt walks over to Mike, and turns his arms to show him a ugly, circular burn. "Do you believe this?" he asks. Mike stares at it silently, and Blaine looks over for a quick second but has to look away.

"It's about the size of a cigar," Kurt states, matter-of-factly. He shoves it in Mike's face. "Do I stutter?" he repeats. "You see, _this_ is what you get in my house when you spill paint in the garage." He backs away from the group, holding up his hands in surrender.

"You don't even want to know what happens when you come out to your parents," he tells them, and adds as an afterthought, "see, I don't think that I need to sit here with you fuckin' dildos anymore!" He goes over to the back, by a few small bookshelves and, with a strangled scream, knocks the display of books over on to the floor.

He climbs on top of the shelf like an animal, and hoists himself onto the staircase leading to the second floor balcony. He sits, feet hanging off of the staircase, faced away from them, his eyes closed as his head leans against the banister. He struggles, trying to take deep enough breaths to clear his mind.

"You shouldn't have said that!" Blaine comments quietly to Mike.

Mike's voice wavers a bit. "How would I know? I mean, he lies about everything, anyway!"

* * *

The kids heard Cooter swear loudly as he spills coffee all over his desk, and Kurt pokes his head out of the library door to make sure the coast is clear as their principal makes his way down the hallway, complaining about rivers and coffee being polluted.

One after the other, the five of them slip out of the library, making their way down the hallway quietly until Blaine spoke up, asking Kurt, "How do you know where Menkins went?"

"I don't," was the response.

"Well, then, how do you know when he'll be back?"

"I don't," Kurt says again. He turns to face Blaine. "Being bad feels pretty good, huh?"

"What's the point in going to Hummel's locker?" Rachel complains to Mike.

The jock shrugs. "Beats me."

"This is so stupid," Rachel exclaims. "Why do you think… why are we risking getting caught?"

"I dunno," Mike says, looking straight ahead.

"So, then what are we _doing_?"

Mike's eyes narrow. "You ask me one more question and I'm beating the shit out of you!"

Rachel's face fell. "Sorry," she says quietly.

After a couple of minutes, they reach a locker that is Kurt's, without question. As if the graffitti wasn't enough of an indication ('Open this locker, and you die, dick!'), it smells worse than the football players' lockers.

Kurt unlocks it and opens it, and Rachel's shocked to see a miniature guillotine go off. Mike's more concerned by the mess.

"Slob!" he says, grossed out.

"My maid's on vacation," Kurt states, pulling out a large, crumpled paper bag. He reaches into the bag and pulls out yet another crumpled paper bag. From this bag, he pulls out a small plastic bag, which he shoves into the pockets of his leather jacket he's put on again. He stuffs the two paper bags back in his locker.

Rachel takes a sniff. "Drugs," she states in disbelief.

"Screw that, Hummel, put it back!" Mike tells him.

Kurt ignores him, walking away.

"Drugs. The boy has marijuana." Rachel expresses concern to the group, but Blaine bites his lip and follows after Kurt.

"That was marijuana!" she tells Mike, who just tells her to shut up before walking after the two of them.

"Do you approve of this?" Rachel asks Tina, who by this point is the only one besides her not left. Tina says nothing, so Rachel, feeling rather helpless, follows after the group.

Tina makes sure no one is looking, and steals Kurt's lock before walking after them.

As they walk back, Mike and Kurt begin to debate over the best route back without being caught.

"We'll cross through the lab, and then we'll double back," Kurt tells him, and Mike agrees.

"You'd better be right," he warns. "Because if Menkins cuts us off, it's your fault, asshole!"

They all take a turn to the left and continue walking, but they freeze when they notice Menkins walking down one of the halls. Adrenaline courses through their veins as they take off running.

They sprint across the tiled floors, ducking into doors and running down staircases, but it seems that no matter where they go, no matter how fast they go, Menkins seems to show up everywhere.

After more than a few close calls, Mike finds himself leading the five of them down a hallway.

"Wait! Wait, hold it!" Kurt calls out. "Hold it! We have to go through the cafeteria!" he informs them, but Mike isn't about to listen to the Hummel boy.

"No, the activities hall," he argues.

Kurt tries to reason with him. "Hey, man, you don't know what you're talking about!"

"No," Mike tells him, "_you_ don't know what you're talking about! Now, we're through listening to you, we're going this way," he says, speaking for the group. He takes off down the hallway. "Come on!" he shouts.

Rachel and Blaine follow after him, and Tina squeals to Kurt, urging him to make a decision quickly. Letting out a loud breath, he decides to follow the rest of the group, even if he knows they're going the wrong way.

It isn't long until they come to a iron gate, closed in the middle of the hallway and blocking their way.

"Shit!" Mike exclaims, and Kurt turns to him.

"Great idea, jackass."

Mike's quick to respond. "Fuck you."

"Fuck you!" Blaine snaps at Mike. "Why didn't you listen to Kurt?"

"We're dead!" Rachel says, voicing the group's thoughts.

Kurt takes a deep breath. "No," he says, and looks at Blaine. "Just me."

"What do you mean?" Rachel asks, and Kurt turns to her.

Stuffing the bag of weed down her shirt, he verbally instructs the group. "Get back to the library, and keep your unit on that," he says, referring to the weed.

And with that, he takes off, singing _Airborne Ranger _as loud as he can to get the principal's attention. The remaining four stare after him as he runs away, before heading an alternative route to the library, around both Hummel and Menkins.

* * *

It doesn't take long for Menkins to hear Kurt – not only is he singing, he starts ripping off posters and slamming his hands on lockers as he runs.

"That son of a bitch," Menkins mutters out loud, to no one in particular, before setting off on a rampage to find the boy.

By the time he does catch up to Hummel, though, he's tired and has a cramp in his side. Panting heavily, he opens the doors to the gymnasium, where the sound is coming from. He finds Kurt with a basketball in his hands, shouting like an announcer might as he shoots for the basket.

"Hummel! Hummel!" Cooter shouts, louder than he'd ever yelled at a student before. Probably because no one else was around to hear them. "Hummel! What is this? What are you doing here, what is this?"

"Oh, hi!" Kurt says cheerily, dribbling the ball between his legs.

"Out!" Menkins commands him, pointing to the door. "That's it, Hummel. Out! It's over!"

Kurt begins to spin the ball on his pointer finger. "Don't you wanna hear my excuse?"

"Out!"

He ignores him. "I'm thinking of trying out for a _scholarship_."

Menkins holds his hand out towards Kurt. "Give me the ball." Kurt looks at him, continuing to dribble. "Give me that ball," he repeats.

Kurt nods, and aggressively fakes the ball several times at Menkins, making him flinch. Smirking, he sets the ball down and rolls it to him, jumping into the air to dodge it when Menkins kicks it at him.

As they make their way out of the gym, Kurt runs off to grab his jacket from behind Cooter, who stands blocking him.

* * *

"Get your stuff," Menkins tells Kurt, pushing him towards the tables once they reach the library. He addresses the four others, all sitting in their seats. "Mr. Wiseguy here," he tells them, "has taken it upon himself to go to the gymnasium. I'm sorry to inform you, you're going to be without his services for the rest of the day."

"B-O-O-H-O-O!" Kurt says sarcastically, spelling out every letter of the word as he sat down, ignoring Menkins.

He narrows his eyes. "Everything's a big joke to you, huh, Hummel?" he asks. "The false alarm you pulled, Friday - false alarms are really _funny_, aren't they! What if your home, what if your family..." Menkins pauses for a minute, realizing who he's talking to. "What if your _dope_ was on fire?" he corrects himself.

"Impossible, sir," Kurt tells Menkins, straight-faced. "It's in Berry's brassiere."

Mike snickers, and Menkins points a finger at him.

"You think he's funny? You think this is cute? You think he's _bitchin'_, is that it?" Cooter asks Mike, who looks down at the table in response. "Lemme tell you something. Look at him, he's a bum. You wanna see something funny? You go visit Kurt Hummel in five years! You'll see how God damned funny he is!" He makes his way over to Kurt, and leans in close to him.

"What's the matter, Kurt? You gonna cry?" Kurt looks away, a hard, almost unreadable look plastered on his face. "Let's go." He reaches for Kurt's arm, but Kurt shakes him off forcefully.

"Hey! Keep your _fuckin'_ hands off me!" he bursts out. Composing himself a bit, he adds, "I expect better manners from you, Coots."

As Kurt passes by Mike's table, he takes his sunglasses out of his pocket, and lays them down in front of Mike.

"For better hallway vision." he explains, tapping Mike once on the arm before leaving. As a final act of defiance, he knocks several items on the librarian's desk as he leaves – including the computer – and runs ahead of Menkins before he can get a hold of him.

* * *

Cooter leads him to a closet, where it seems all the spare furniture – or at least the spare random crap – the school owns is kept. Kurt sits up on a table, back against an ancient filing cabinet of some sort.

"That's the last time, Hummel," Cooter assures him. "That's the last time you ever make me look bad in front of those kids, do you hear me? I make $81,000 dollars a year, and I have a home, and I'm not about to throw it away on some punk like you.

"But someday, man, someday: when you're outta here and you've forgotten all about this place, and they've forgotten all about you,and you're wrapped up in your own pathetic life... I'm gonna be there."

Kurt looks up at him, confused. "That's right. And I'm gonna kick the living shit out of you, man. I'm gonna knock your dick in the dirt!"

There was a short silence. "Are you threatening me?" Kurt asks, shocked.

"What're you gonna do about it? You think anybody's gonna believe you? You think anybody's gonna take your word over mine?" Cooter asks him, laughing. "I'm a man of respect around here. They love me around here, I'm a swell guy. You're a lying sack of shit! And everybody knows it."

Kurt says nothing, just sitting there and taking all that Menkins is saying, but this only angers Cooter more.

"Oh, you're a real tough guy," he says, taking off his suit jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. "Come on, come on. Get on your feet, pal!" he shouts. "Let's find out how tough you are! I wanna know right now, how tough you are!"

When Kurt refuses to do anything, sitting there in horror, Menkins' voice only gets more insistant. "Come on!" he begs, "I'll give you the first punch, let's go! Come on, right here." He gestures to his chin, sticking his face up to Hummel's. "Just take the first shot! Please, I'm begging you, take a shot! Come on!" He closes his eyes, waiting for Kurt to hit him. "Just take one shot, that's all I need, just one swing…"

When it's clear that Kurt isn't going to hit him, Menkins opens his eyes, satisfied. He stands up straight, and fakes a punch of his own at Kurt, who flinches in response.

"That's what I thought," Cooter tells him. "You're a gutless turd!" He watches Kurt process this, and walks out of the room, locking the door behind him.

Kurt sits there, still letting Cooter's words sink in. When he's sure that the principal is gone for good, though, he begins stacking the random furniture in the room so that he can reach a hatch in the ceiling that opens to the heating vent. Sliding the tile in after him, he begins to crawl his way through the vent ever-so-slowly.

As he crawls, he tells a joke to himself to ease his nerves a bit. "A naked blonde walks into a bar," he begins, "with a poodle under one arm, and a two-foot salami under the other. She lays the poodle on the table. Bartender says_: I suppose you won't be needing a drink._ The naked lady says-"

Just as he is about to finish the punch line, the ceiling under him gives out, and he falls through the ceiling with a loud crash.

"Oh, shit!" he calls out.

* * *

Hummel composes himself before he makes his way over to the front of the library, where the others are staring at him.

"I forgot my pencil," he tells them as a casual explanation, and he motions to get it. When he hears Menkins' footsteps outside the hall, however – the principal being so shocked by the loud noise, he cussed loud enough for the kids to hear – he ducks under the table that Blaine and Mike are sitting at.

"God damnit!" Menkins swears again as he enters the room – apparently, 'God damnit' being a very popular curse word with him – "What in God's name is going on in here?"

He stares at the four of them, who just shrug.

"What was that ruckus?" he demands.

Mike makes a confused face. "Uh, what ruckus?" he asks.

Cooter glares at him. "I was just in my office, and I heard a ruckus!"

"Could you describe the ruckus, sir?" Rachel asks, shrugging again, and Menkins points a finger at her.

"Watch your tongue young lady. Watch it!"

From underneath the table, Kurt tries to get comfortable and lifts his head up, consequently banging it on the table. He groans in pain.

Hoping to cover it up, Mike bangs on the table in front of him. Kurt bangs back in response, his face still squinched up in pain, and Tina helps disguise it by stomping her foot on the floor.

"What is that?" Cooter repeats again. "What is that? What is that noise?"

"What noise?" Mike asks him back. Underneath the table, Kurt smirks to himself, as he has a rather intriguing view of Blaine's crotch from his current position.

Blaine, oblivious to this, tries to help Kurt out. "Really, sir," he reassures Menkins, "there wasn't any noise-" On the last word, his voice catches, and he inhales a sharp breath as Kurt sticks his face in Blaine's crotch.

Blaine squeezes his legs together, crushing Kurt's head in the process, and he lets out a grunt of pain. Blaine coughs loudly to cover it up, and soon everyone joins in, faking coughing fits.

"That noise?" he asks, once Kurt's head is removed from in-between his legs, coming out of his coughing fit. "Was that the noise you were talking about?"

"No, it wasn't." Cooter crosses his arms. "That was not the noise I was talking about. Now, I may not have caught you in the act this time, but you can bet I will," he warns them all, suspicious.

Tina coughs once more, to cover up her laughter. She smirks.

"You make book on that, missy!" Menkins tells her. "And you!" he says, pointing to Blaine. "I will not be made a fool of!"

In a terrific moment of true irony, he turns to walk away, a disposable toilet seat from his earlier trip to the washroom still on his pants.

As soon as the door to the library closes, everyone except Blaine bursts out into a fit of laughter. He kicks Kurt a few more times before scooting his chair back, slapping him as he crawls out from underneath the table.

"It was an accident!" Kurt protests calmly.

Blaine knows better by now. "You're an asshole."

Kurt holds his hands up in surrender. "Sue me." He gets up, and walks over to Rachel.

"So, Ahab." Rachel looks up. "Kybo Mein Doobage."

Rachel sheepishly turns away and reaches into her shirt, pulling out Kurt's bag of marijuana. Kurt walks away, not acknowledging her any further.

"Yo, wastoid!" Mike calls. "You're not gonna blaze up in here!"

Kurt keeps walking away. Blaine tries to ignore him, but he can't bring himself to stop looking after him as he walks away. Mike shakes his head at him in protest, but it's futile – it doesn't take Blaine very long to get up and go after Kurt.

Rachel is visibly thinking about it and debating with herself for a while, but eventually, one side wins over, and she heads in the direction Kurt walked off in, adjusting her sweater as she goes.

Mike stews grumpily in his seat, but it doesn't take long after Rachel's walked off for him to follow, as well. "Shit," he mutters to himself, unable to believe what he's about to do.

Tina watches him as he leaves, unmoving from her seat.

* * *

Within a short period of time, Rachel, Kurt and Blaine are all under a drug-induced happiness as they sit together in the back of the library. They laugh hysterically at themselves and each other for no particular reason

Kurt takes out his pack of cigarettes, and offers them to the other two. Rachel takes one without hesitation, and Blaine sheepishly grabs one as well. Kurt grabs a match out of his jean pockets, striking it against his own teeth before lighting their joints.

Blaine closes his eyes as he inhales the smoke, but coughs and sputters it out once he feels it burn in his throat and lungs. Kurt glances over at him, smiling slightly, and lets out a small fit of giggles. Blaine offers a shy smile back, his throat still burning from the sensation. He tries it again, and manages to at least get it down this time.

Rachel, higher than any of them at this point, puts on Kurt's glasses – which Kurt took back from Mike – and tries to eat the smoke she just exhaled, like a fish might. Blaine laughs in response, which encourages her to keep going.

"Preps cannot hold their smoke!" she tells Kurt, in a funny voice. "Dat's what it is!" Kurt laughs in response, turning to Blaine.

"Do you know how popular I am?" Blaine asks him, the drugs having set in. "I'm so popular, everybody loves me so much, at this school." He takes another drag of his cigarette.

"Poor baby," Kurt laughs.

Rachel waves Kurt over, to give him a high-five, holding her hand in front of her face. When Kurt high-fives her, he pushes their hands into Rachel's face, knocking her off the chair she's sitting on, her legs straight up, revealing her long bobby socks, which are pulled up high.

All three of them burst into laughter, even Rachel.

Just then, Mike – who up until this point, has been smoking a joint and listening to music in the Foreign Language Studies room on the second floor of the library– emerges from the room, which is covered completely in smoke. He notices the three of them stare up at him and he inhales another drag.

Throwing the cigarette away, he starts dancing to the music, shedding layers of clothing – first his letterman jacket, then his sweatshirt underneath. As he makes his way around the library, cartwheeling and rolling and spinning, he jumps onto a bench and struggles to take off his sweater, which he throws down to them.

Rachel starts whistling at the sight of Mike in a tank top, and Mike takes off again, throwing punches and jumping over bookshelves. He reaches the smoky room again, and closes the door behind him. Screaming like a mad-man, he manages to shatter the glass in the door.

Still in her seat at the tables, Tina stares at him.

* * *

Meanwhile, Menkins has gone bored of sitting in his office and lounging around, so he grabs the keys to the school's basement and lets himself in. He begins snooping around the filing cabinets.

"Miss… oh, Miss Castle…" he reads, looking at the school's astronomy teacher's file. "A history of… slight mental illness?" He chuckles to himself. "Wooh, no wonder she's so fucked up!"

"Afternoon, Cooter," he hears from someone at the door. Looking up, Cooter notices it's the janitor.

"Hey, Will," he greets. "How you doing?" He puts the file away as he speaks, hoping Will doesn't say anything about it.

"Good."

"Good, what's up?" Menkins asks him.

"Not much," Will responds casually. "What's happening? What are you doing in the basement files?"

Cooter tries covering the stack of files with his arm. "Oh, nothing, nothing here. I'm just doin' a little homework here."

"Homework, huh?" Will asks, walking over to him.

"Yeah," he agrees.

Will peers at the drawer of files Cooter has open. "Confidential files, hm?"

Uh-oh. Busted.

"Well, look, Will," Cooter says, trying to recover. "This is a highly sensitive area, and I tell you something... Certain people would be very, very embarrassed. I would really appreciate it if… If this would be something that, that you and I could keep between us."

Will pats the files with his gloved hand. "What're you gonna do for me, man?" he asks.

"Well… well, what would you like?"

Will's eyes light up. "Can I have fifty bucks?" he asks.

Cooter is confused. "What?"

"Fifty bucks," Will tells him again, laying down the terms of their agreement. Of course, he wouldn't tell Terri about the money. Maybe he could actually buy something for himself this time…

* * *

Back in the library, Rachel and Mike are sitting together, laughing.

"No, no, girl, no. You got a middle name?" Mike asks her.

"Yeah, guess."

Tina comes up behind the two of them, suddenly interested in the conversation. "Your middle name is Barbra. As in Streisland." They look over to her, confused. She continues talking. "Your birthday is December 18th, you're five-three and a half, you weigh a hundred and ten pounds, and your social security number is 0-4-9-3-8-0-9-1-3," she recites the information to her as she takes a seat next to Rachel.

Mike is noticeably impressed. "Wow! Are you psychic?"

"No…"

Rachel narrows her eyes. "Would you mind telling me how you know all this about me?"

Tina grins, and reaches into her bag. "I stole your wallet," she says, taking it out and showing it off.

"Give it to me," Rachel tells her. "Give it." Tina tosses it back to her.

"This is great," Rachel exclaims, "you're a thief, too! Huh?"

"I'm not a thief."

Rachel begins going through her wallet to make sure nothing's missing. "Multi-talented," she mutters under her breath.

"What's there to steal?" Tina asks her, noticing her paranoia. "Two bucks and a picture of your dads."

Mike smirks.

* * *

On the other end of the library sit Kurt and Blaine. Kurt, having gone through Blaine's bag, is styling his hair with one of Blaine's many bottles of gel.

Blaine's got Kurt's wallet in front of him, and is going through the pictures in it. "Are all these your boyfriends?" he asks him, nervously.

"Some of them," he tells the boy without looking at him, still concentrating on his hair.

"What about the others?"

Kurt puts the gel away and grabs a small bottle of cologne from Blaine's bag, spraying it on himself curiously. "Well, some I consider my boyfriends," he tells him, "and some I just… consider."

"Consider what?" Blaine pries.

Kurt grabs one of the many bow-ties in Blaine's bag, and observes it carefully. "Whether or not I wanna hang out with them."

Blaine looks shocked. "You don't believe in just… one guy and… don't you believe in monogamy at all?" he corrects himself.

Kurt looks over to him. "Do you?" he asks, confused.

"Yeah," Blaine says softly. He looks back to Kurt's wallet pictures. "That's… that's the way it should be."

"Well, not for me," Kurt says, going back to searching through Blaine's bag.

"Why not?"

Kurt ignores the question. "How come you got so much shit in your bag?" he asks him, gesturing to the huge pile of junk on the table where'd he'd emptied the contents of the bag.

"How come you got so many boyfriends?" Blaine counters.

"I asked you first," Kurt points out.

Blaine shrugs. "I don't know. I guess I never throw anything away."

Kurt smirks. "Neither do I," he says, with a sultry look.

"Oh."

* * *

"This it the worst fake ID I've ever seen." Mike tells Rachel, who laughs. "Do you realize you made yourself sixty eight?"

"Oh, yeah, I know, I goofed it."

Mike gives her a look. "What do you need a fake ID for?"

"So I can vote!" Rachel states, as if it was obvious.

"Do you wanna see what's in my bag?" Tina blurts out.

"No," the other two say in unison.

Tina looks up, resentment in her eyes. For spite, she dumps the contents of her bag onto the couch. Everything comes piling out – pieces of fabric, socks without matches, tampons…

"Holy shit!' Mike exclaims. "What is all that stuff?"

"Do you always carry this much shit in your bag?" Rachel asks her, grossed out.

Tina pauses. "Yeah. I always carry this much shit in my bag. You never know when you may have to jam."

Rachel looks over at her. "Are you gonna be like Patches? You know, that homeless guy who sleeps in front of the post office barking at people?"

"I'll do what I have to do," she states simply.

"Well, why do you have to do anything?"

Tina stares at her quietly. "My home life," she tells her, struggling to keep her voice under control, "is unsatisfying."

"So you're saying you'd subject yourself to the violent dangers of the streets around here because your home life is _unsatisfying_?" Rachel asks, mocking her slightly.

"I don't have to run away and live in the street," Tina tells her, angry. "I can run away and go to the ocean, I can go to the country, I can go to the mountains. I can go to Israel, Africa, Afghanistan..."

Rachel looks at her for a moment, silent. She turns to Mike. "Mike, you wanna get in on this? Tina here says, she wants to run away, because her home life is _unsatisfying_," Rachel relays to Mike, who looks up at Tina.

"Well, everyone's home lives are unsatisfying," he tells her. "If it wasn't, people would live with their parents forever."

"Yeah, yeah, I understand." Rachel whispers to him, "but I think that hers goes beyond, you know, what people like you and me consider 'normal' unsatisfying…"

Tina speaks up before anyone could say anything else. "Nevermind. Forget it, everything's cool." She starts putting everything back in her bag.

"What's the deal?" Mike demands.

"No." She shakes her head. "There is no deal, _Sporto_. Forget it. Leave me alone."

Mike leans in closer. "Wait a minute. You're carrying all that crap around in your purse. Either you really wanna run away, or you want people to think you wanna run away."

"Eat _shit_!" Tina swears at him. She gets up and storms off.

"The girl is an island, with herself," Rachel tells him. "Okay?" But Michael gives her a look, throwing Rachel's wallet on the couch, and goes after Tina.

He finds her leaning over a bookcase, clearly upset. "Hi," he greets her quietly. "You wanna talk?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Go away," Tina tells him.

Mike looks around for a second. "Where do you want me to go?"

"Go away!" Tina repeats.

He stares at her for a moment before complying. As he leaves, Tina starts to cry silently. "You have problems!"

Mike turns around. "Oh_, I_ have problems?"

"You do everything everybody ever tells you to do! _That_ is a problem!" she shouts.

"Okay, fine," Mike admits, shouting back. "But I didn't dump my purse out on the couch and invite people into _my_ problems, did I?" He takes a few steps closer to her, and lowers his voice to a whisper.

"So what's wrong? What is it?" Tina won't answer him. "Is is bad? Real bad?" he asks. "Parents?"

Tina's eyes are wet with tears. "Yeah," she admits after a long silence.

Mike nods, not sure what to say. "What do they do to you?" he asks carefully.

"They ignore me," Tina says, taking a breath.

"Yeah," Mike agrees, and Tina can see he's fighting back tears of his own. "Yeah."

* * *

Back in the basement, Cooter and Will sit, talking together, a beer in each of their hands. "What did you want to be when you were young?" Menkins asks the janitor, a small haze in his eyes as he thinks back to his own youth.

Will thinks about it for a second. "When I was a kid, I wanted to sing on Broadway," he confesses.

"Schuester, don't be a goof! I'm trying to make a serious point here." He sighs. "I've been teaching for years. And each year, these kids get more and more arrogant."

Will pulls a face. "Aw, bullshit, man. Come on, Coots, the kids haven't changed. You have!" Cooter sighs as Will continues. "You took a teaching position 'cause you thought it'd be fun, right? Thought you could have summer vacations off... And then you found out it was actually work, and that really bummed you out."

He shakes his head. "These kids turned on me," Menkins protests. "They think I'm a big fucking joke." He takes a sip of the beer can he's holding.

"Come on," Will laughs a bit. "Listen, Cooter. If you were sixteen, what would you think of you, huh?"

"Hey... Will, you think I give one rat's ass what these kids think of me?"

Will nods, taking a chug of his beer. "Yes, I do."

"You think about this," Cooter tells him. "When you get old, these kids - when_ I_ get old - they're gonna be running the country."

Will laughs. "Yeah."

"Now, this is the thought that wakes me up in the middle of the night: that when I get older, these kids are gonna take care of me."

"I wouldn't count on it," Will tells him honestly.

* * *

All five kids now sit in a circle, on the floor.

"What would I do for a million bucks?" Mike asks Blaine, who just directed the question at him. "Well, I guess I'd do as little as I had to..."

Blaine rolls his eyes. "That's boring."

"Well, how am I supposed to answer?"

"The idea is to like search your mind for the absolute limit," he tells him. He smiles slyly. "Like, uh, would you drive to school naked?"

Mike laughs. "Would I have to get out of the car?"

"Of course."

The jock thinks about this for a minute. "In the spring, or winter?" he asks.

"It doesn't matter. Spring."

"In front of the school or in back of the school?"

Blaine's growing impatient. "Either one."

"Yes," Mike decides. Blaine raises his eyebrows in surprise.

Tina speaks up, just then. "I'd do that." Blaine looks at her. "I'll do anything sexual," she adds, "I don't need a million dollars to do it, either."

"You're lying," Blaine tells her. He rolls his eyes.

"I already have," she states plainly. "I've done just about everything there is, except a few things that are illegal. I'm a nymphomaniac!" Tina confesses.

Blaine rolls his eyes yet again, leaning his head back against the pillar behind him. "Lie."

"Are your parents aware of this?" Rachel asks, concerned.

Tina looks down, embarrassed. "The only person I told was my shrink."

"And what'd he do when you told him?" Mike questions.

Tina smiles. "He nailed me," she says, breathlessly.

Blaine looks like he might puke. "Very nice," he says sarcastically.

Tina keeps talking. "I don't think that from a legal standpoint, what he did can be construed as rape, since I paid him."

"He's an adult!" Blaine says, shocked.

"Yeah," Tina says, nodding. "He's married, too!"

Blaine scoffs. "Do you have any idea how completely gross that is?"

"Well, the first few times-"

"First few times?" Blaine asks Tina, shocked. "You mean, he did it more than once?"

Tina shrugs. "Sure."

"Are you _crazy_?"

Rachel chimes in. "Obviously, she's crazy, if she's screwing her shrink."

"Have you ever done it?" Tina asks Blaine.

Blaine shifts his position, uncomfortable. After a moment, he speaks. "I don't even have a psychiatrist."

"Have you ever done it with a normal person?" Tina clarifies.

"Didn't we already cover this?"

Kurt lifts his head, interested. "You never answered the question," he tells him.

"Look, I'm not gonna discuss my private life with total strangers."

Tina smirks, leaning in closer to Blaine. "It's kind of a double-edged sword, isn't it?" When Blaine looks at her, confused, she adds, "if you say you haven't, you're a prude. If you say you have, you're a slut. It's a trap. You want to, but you can't. But when you do, you wish you didn't, right?"

"Wrong."

Tina thinks for a second. "Or are you a tease?" she asks Blaine.

"He's a tease," Rachel comments, answering for him.

"Oh, why don't you just forget it?" Blaine says, annoyed.

Rachel keeps going. "You're a tease and you know it! All guys like you are teases!"

"He's only a tease if what he does gets you hot," Kurt speaks up, and Rachel blushes, embarrassed.

"I don't _do_ anything!" Blaine says, speaking up for himself.

Tina grins widely. "That's why you're a tease."

"Okay, let me ask you a few questions," Blaine fires back.

"I've already told you everything!"

Blaine shakes his head. "No." He continues. "Doesn't it bother you to sleep around without being in love? I mean, don't you want any respect?" he asks.

"I don't screw to get respect," she tells Blaine. "That's the difference between you and me."

"Not the only difference, I hope," Blaine mutters quiet enough so that Tina can't hear him.

"Face it," Kurt tells Blaine. "You're a tease."

Blaine's quick to defend himself. "I'm _not_ a tease!"

"Sure you are!" Kurt tells him. "You said it yourself: sex is a weapon, you use it to get respect!"

Blaine thinks back to what he said. "No, I never said that. She twisted my words around."

"Oh, then what do you use it for?" Kurt asks nonchalantly.

"I don't use it, period!" Blaine tells him.

Kurt gasps, pretending to have a 'eureka' moment. "Oh," he exclaims. "Are you medically frigid, or is it psychological?"

"I didn't mean it that way!" Blaine looks around at the rest of the group, feeling trapped. "You guys are putting words into my mouth!"

"Well, if you'd just answer the question…" Kurt points out.

The others jump in, telling Blaine to "just answer the question!" and "be honest!" and to "talk to us, Blaine!" He silences all of their voices by shouting.

"No! I'm gay!" he shouts out, practically in tears. "I never did it!"

There is silence for a moment. Everyone looks at him, startled.

"I never did it, either," Tina tells him. "I'm not a nymphomaniac, I'm a compulsive liar."

Blaine is enraged. "You are such a bitch!" he tells her. "You did that on purpose, just to fuck me over!"

"I would have sex, though." Tina continues. "If you love someone, it's okay."

"I can't believe you, you're so weird. You don't say anything all day, and then when you open your mouth, you unload all these tremendous _lies_ all over me!"

Mike defends Tina. "You're just pissed off because she got you to admit something you didn't want to admit to."

Blaine pulls his fingers through his loosely-gelled hair. "Okay, fine," he admits. "But that doesn't make it any less bizarre."

"What's bizarre?" Mike questions. "I mean, we're all pretty bizarre! Some of us are just better at hiding it, that's all."

"How are you bizarre?" Blaine asks him, and Tina answers before Mike can.

"He can't think for himself," she announces.

Mike nods solemnly. "She's right. Do you guys know what, uh, what I did to get in here?" They all shake their heads, silent. "I trapped Artie Abrams in a porta-potty."

Blaine laughs, but Rachel doesn't crack a smile. "That was you?" she asks Mike.

"Yeah, you know him?"

Rachel nods, quietly. "Yeah, I know him…" Artie was in Rachel's Glee club.

"Well, then you know how he's in a wheelchair, right?" All of them nod. "Well, I trapped him in the porta-potty sideways, so he couldn't move, and then I rolled it over on him."

"Oh, my God…" Blaine exclaims softy.

"And the bizarre thing is," Mike continues, everyone listening quietly, "is that I did it for my old man. I tortured this poor kid, because I wanted him to think that I was _cool_. He's always going off about, you know, when he was in school, all the wild things he used to do. And I got the feeling that he was disappointed that I never cut loose on anyone, right?

"So, I'm...I'm sitting in the locker room, and I'm taping up my knee. And Artie's undressing a couple lockers down from me. Yeah... he's kinda... he's kinda skinny, weak. I mean, he's in a wheelchair, to top it off. And I started thinking about my father, and his attitude about… about weakness. And the next thing I knew, I grabbed his wheelchair and started wheeling him out to the porta-potties.

"And my friends, they just laughed and cheered me on. And afterwards, when I was sitting in Menkins' office, all I could think about was Artie's father. And Artie having to go home and...and explain what happened to him.

"And the humiliation," Mike adds, close to crying. "The fucking humiliation he must have felt. It must have been unreal... I mean, I mean, how do you apologize for something like that? There's no way. It's all because of me and my old man.

"Oh God, I fucking hate him! He's like this... he's like this mindless machine that I can't even relate to anymore." Then, imitating his dad, he speaks again. "_Michael! You've got to be number one! I won't tolerate any losers in this family...Your intensity is for shit! Win. Win! WIN!_"

By now, tears stream down Mike's face. "You son of a bitch!" he says, speaking about his father. "You know, sometimes, I wish my knee would give...and I wouldn't be able to play football anymore. And he could forget all about me."

"I think your old man and my old man should get together and go bowling," Kurt says, looking down. Mike chuckles bitterly.

Rachel looks up, taking her head out of her hands, and begins to speak. "It's like me, you know, with my grades and all my extracurricular activities. Like, when I… when I step outside myself kinda, and when I… when I look in at myself, you know? And I see me, and I don't like what I see, I really don't," she confides in them.

"What's wrong with you?" Blaine asks her sympathetically. "Why don't you like yourself?"

"It sounds stupid but… it's 'cause I'm failing cooking." They all look over at her, not saying anything.

"See, we had this assignment, to bake a, um, soufflé," she explains. "And, um, you know how they're supposed to come out all nice and fluffy and stuff? Mine was completely sunken flat. I got an F on it." She sounds depressed as she retells the story. "I've never gotten an F in my life... When I signed up, you know, for the course, I mean, I thought I was playing it real smart, you know. 'Cause I thought, I'll take cooking, it'll be such an easy way to maintain my grade point average..."

"Why'd you think it'd be easy?" Kurt interjects.

Rachel scoffs. "Have you seen some of the dopes that take cooking?"

"_I_ take cooking," Kurt informs her. "You must be a fuckin' idiot!"

"I'm a fuckin' idiot because I can't cook?"

Kurt stares at her. "No, you're a _genius_ because you can't cook…"

"What do you know about Trigonometry?" Rachel asks him, defensive.

"I could care less about Trigonometry," Kurt states.

"Hummel, did you know without Trigonometry, there'd be no engineering?"

Kurt begins to raise his voice. "Without _cooking_, there'd be no _food to eat_!"

Blaine tries to get them to stop arguing. "Okay," he says calmly, "so neither one of you is any better than the other one."

"I can write with my toes!" Tina says out of the blue. Everyone looks over. "I can also eat, brush my teeth, play Heart & Soul on the piano…"

"With your feet?" Blaine asks, bewildered.

"I can sing!" Rachel speaks up proudly.

Blaine looks over to Mike. "What can you do?" he asks him.

"I can, uh… trap you all in a porta-potty," he says with a laugh.

Kurt gestures to Blaine. "I wanna see what Blaine can do," he suggests.

"I can't do anything," Blaine confesses.

"Now, everybody can do something," he says, like a kindergarten teacher talking to a class of four-year olds might.

Blaine thinks about it. "There's one thing I can do…" He shakes his head. "No, forget it, it's way too embarrassing."

"You ever see the Glee club perform? I mean, they suck, and they'll still going at it," Kurt says, trying to convince Blaine to put himself out there.

"Hey!" Rachel exclaims, but Kurt ignores her.

"Have a little courage," he adds to Blaine, who takes a deep breath.

"Okay, but you have to swear to God you won't laugh." Kurt does the sign of the cross with his fingers – touching his head, chest, and both shoulders. "Okay," he agrees.

"I can't believe I'm actually doing this," Blaine comments, laughing a bit as he reaches into his bag. He pulls out a container of cherries, taking out an individual one. He rips the cherry off of its stem, and pops only the stem in his mouth.

All four of them watch him, transfixed, as Blaine moves his tongue around in his mouth. Mike is very impressed, looking around at the rest of the group with a smile plastered on his face.

A little less than a minute later, Blaine grins, opening his mouth and producing a fully-tied cherry stem.

Everyone claps, including Kurt – except his is a slow, sarcastic clap.

"Alright, great!" Mike cheers Blaine on. "Where'd you learn to do that?

"Camp, seventh grade."

Only when Blaine looks up at Kurt does he stop his clapping. "That was great, Blaine," he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "My image of you is totally blown."

"You're a _shit_!" Tina yells out at him. "Don't do that to her," she tells him. "You swore to God you wouldn't laugh!"

"Am I laughing?" Kurt points out.

"You fucking prick!" Mike shouts. Kurt turns to him, his expression hostile.

"What do you care what I think, anyway? I don't even count, right? I could disappear forever and it wouldn't make any difference." As he recites Mike's words back at him, Mike has to turn away. "I may as well not even _exist_ at this school, _remember_? And _you_," he says, now turning to Blaine, "don't like me anyway."

Blaine's eyes narrow. "You know, I have just as many feelings as you do, and it hurts just as much when somebody all over them!"

"God, you're so pathetic!" Kurt exclaims. "Don't you ever – _ever_- compare yourself to me, okay? You got everything, and I got _shit_!" Blaine starts to cry, but Kurt takes no notice. "Fucking _Prince Charming_, right? School would probably fucking _shut down_ if you didn't show up! _Queenie_ _isn't here!_"

He gestures to the bow-tie Blaine's wearing around his neck – a bright green one. "I like that bow-tie, Blainers," he comments.

"Shut up," Blaine tells him through his tears.

Kurt presses on. "Is it made of real silk, Blaine?"

"Shut up!"

"I bet they are. Did you work for the money for that bow-tie?"

"Shut your mouth."

Kurt smirks. "Or did your daddy buy that?"

"_Shut up_!" Blaine shouts. He starts sobbing.

"I bet he bought those for you! I bet those are a _Christmas gift_!" Blaine looks away. "Right? You know what _I_ got for Christmas this year? It was a better fuckin' year at the old Bender family! I got a carton of cigarettes. The old man grabbed me and said _Hey! Smoke up, boy! Maybe it'll make ya straight_!" He looked him in the eyes. "Okay, so go home and cry to your daddy, don't cry here, okay?"

Blaine doesn't look Kurt in the eye as he wipes away his tears, sniffling.

"My God," Mike says suddenly. "Are we gonna be like our parents?"

Blaine shakes his head, a few tears still streaming down his face. "Not me. Ever." Kurt looks over to her, nodding sympathetically. He looks sorry, but Blaine doesn't know if he really is or not.

"It's unavoidable," Tina tells them. "It just happens."

"What happens?" Blaine asks softly.

Tina looks around the room. "When you grow up," she begins, "your heart dies."

"Who cares?" Kurt interrupts.

"I care," Tina says, her voice broken.

"Um, I was just thinking," Rachel speaks up. "I mean, I know it's kind of a weird time, but I was just wondering, um, what is gonna happen to us on Monday? When we're all together again? I mean, I consider you guys my friends." Nobody says anything at first. "I'm not wrong, am I?" she asks.

Mike answers her. "No…"

"So… so on Monday, what happens?"

"Are we still friends, you mean?" Blaine asks. He looks around the room. "If we're friends now, that is?"

Rachel nods. "Yeah."

Blaine's face is unreadable. "Do you want the truth?"

"Yeah, I want the truth."

"I don't think so," Blaine admits. Rachel looks away from him.

Tina's smile is bitter. "With all of us, or just John?"

"With all of you."

"That's a real nice attitude, Blaine!" Mike shouts at him.

Blaine takes a breath. "Oh, be honest, Mike. If Rachel came walking up to you in the hall on Monday, what would you do? I mean picture this," he tells him, verbally illustrating the scenario, "you're there with all the jocks… I know exactly what you'd do: you'd say hi to her, and when she left, you'd cut her all up so your friends wouldn't think you really liked her!"

"No way!" Mike protests.

Tina looks over to Blaine. "'Kay. What if I came up to you?"

"Same exact thing," he tells her.

Kurt begins to yell at Blaine again. "You are a bastard!" he tells him.

He looks over at Kurt, startled. "Why?" he asks. "Because I'm telling the truth, that makes me a bastard?"

"No! 'Cause you know how shitty that is to do to someone! And you don't got the _balls_ to stand up to your friends and tell 'em that you're gonna like who you wanna like!"

"Okay, what about you, you hypocrite?" Blaine asks him. "Why don't you take Tina to one of your heavy metal vomit parties?" Tina laughs, picturing this.

"Or take Rachel out to the parking lot at lunch to get high? What about Mike for that matter, what about _me_? What would your friends say if we were walking down the hall together. They'd laugh their asses off, and you'd probably tell them you were _doing it_ with me so they'd forgive you for being seen with me."

Kurt holds up a finger at him. "Don't you _ever_ talk about my friends! You don't _know_ any of my friends, you don't _look_ at any of my friends and you certainly wouldn't _condescend_ to speak to any of my friends! So you just stick to the things you know: shopping, hair products, your father's Chevy and your poor, rich, drunk mother in the Caribbean!"

"_Shut up_!" Blaine screams, kicking him.

"And as far as being concerned about what's gonna happen when you and I walk down the hallways at school," Kurt continues, "you can _forget it_! 'Cause it's _never_ gonna happen! Just bury your head in the sand, and wait for your fucking prom!"

Blaine is in tears again. "I hate you!" he tells him.

"Yeah?" Kurt asks him. "_Good_!"

There is silence. After a moment, Rachel speaks. "Then I assume Tina and I are better people than you guys, huh?" she asks. "Us losers..." she turns to Tina. "Do you… would you do that to me?"

"I don't have any friends..." Tina confesses.

"Well, if you did?"

Tina shakes her head. "No. I don't think the kind of friends I'd have would mind."

"I just wanna tell each of you," Rachel says, addressing the group, "that I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't, and I will _not_! 'Cause I think that's real shitty."

Blaine speaks up. "Your friends wouldn't mind, because they look up to us."

Rachel laughs at him bitterly, through the tears streaming down her face. "You're so conceited, Blaine. You're so conceited." She wipes her tears with her sweater sleeve. "You're so, like, full of yourself, why are you like that?"

"I'm not saying that to be conceited!" Blaine says, his voice cracked. "I hate it! I hate having to go along with everything my friends say!"

"Well then, why do you do it?"

Blaine shakes his head. "I don't know, I don't..." He wipes a tear off his chin. "You don't understand, you don't... You're not friends with the same kind of people that Mike and I are friends with! You know, you just don't understand the pressure that they can put on you!"

Rachel is shocked. "I don't understand _what_?" she asks. "You think I don't understand pressure? Well, fuck you! _Fuck you_!" She buries her face in her sleeve, sobbing.

"Know why I'm here today?" she asks them through the fabric. "_Do you_?" She lifts her face up, brushing away her tears with her hand. "I'm here because Ms. Pillsbury found a gun in my locker."

"Why'd you have a gun in your locker?" Mike asks her carefully.

Rachel sobs. "I tried. I put the fucking soufflé in the oven, and it came out flat, and, I mean… I..." She sits up a bit, her face red from all of the crying.

"What's the gun for, Rachel?" Mike asks.

"Just forget it."

Mike shakes his head. "You brought it up, Rach!"

"I can't have an F," Rachel tells him. "_I_ can't have it, and I _know_ my parents can't have it! Even if I aced the rest of the semester, I'm still only a B. And everything's ruined for me."

"Oh, Rachel…" Blaine says sympathetically.

Rachel hits the chair next to her, knocking it over. "So I considered my options, you know?" she tells them.

Blaine is quick to speak. "No! Killing yourself is not an option!"

"Well, I didn't do it, did I?" Rachel asks him. "No, I don't think so!"

"It was a hand gun?" Tina wonders.

Rachel shakes her head. "No, it was a flare gun. It went off in my locker."

"Really?" Mike asks, starting to laugh.

"It's not funny," she tells him, but Mike continues to laugh. He tries to clear his throat and stop, but it doesn't work, and soon Rachel's joining in on his laughter.

"Yes, it is," Rachel admits. "Fucking soufflé was destroyed."

Tina looks around at them all. "You wanna know what I did to get in here?" she asks. They all look at her.

"Nothing... I didn't have anything better to do."

All four of them burst out laughing. "You're laughing at me," Tina states, but she cracks a smile, too.

"No!" Mike lies.

"Yeah, you are!" She laughs along with them.

* * *

All serious discussion aside, the group was free to let all of their emotions out of their systems. Rachel finds a CD player in a spare room, and plugs it in, blasting a rock CD. All five of them start dancing, all doing different things. Kurt head-bangs while straddling the giant statue in the middle of the library. Tina spins around and around. Mike taps to the beat of the music using his hands. Rachel – although she can sing – isn't the best dancer, but she lets herself go as she dances freely. Blaine _is _a pretty good dancer, and the other four are impressed by his skills.

The five of them all dance together, living in the moment and forgetting all their feelings. Eventually, though, they're exhausted, and can't dance anymore.

* * *

Detention is nearing its close, so the group bids goodbye to Kurt before he makes his way back through the heating vent – this time, not breaking any tiles in the process.

They then all sit on the railing together, silently.

"Rachel?" Blaine speaks up, breaking the group's silence.

She looks over. "Yeah?"

"Are you gonna write your paper?" he asks her.

"Yeah, why?"

Blaine smiles. "Well, it's kind of a waste for all of us to write our paper, don't you think?"

"Oh, but that's what Menkins wants us to do..." Rachel says nervously.

"True," Blaine admits, "but I think we'd all kinda say the same thing."

Rachel smiles shyly, knowing where Blaine is going with this. "You just don't want to write your paper. Right?" she asks him.

"True…" he says again. "But you're the smartest, right?"

Rachel blushes, flattered. "Oh, well…"

"We trust you," Blaine adds.

Rachel looks over to Mike and Tina, who both nod in approval. "Yeah," Mike admits. His eyes wander over to Tina, watching her.

"Alright," Rachel agrees. "I'll do it."

"Great," Blaine says, smiling.

"But first," she says, jumping off of the railing and turning to Tina, "come on."

Tina looks at her, suspicious. "Where're we going?"

She smiles, grabbing Tina's sleeve. "Come on!"

* * *

"Don't be afraid," Rachel tells her as she applies some eyeliner to Tina's brown eyes.

"Don't stick that in my eye!" Tina exclaims in response.

"I'm not sticking it, just close…" Rachel closes her eyes, showing Tina what to do. "Just go like that."

Tina complies, but squeaks as Rachel puts makeup on her eyelids.

"Good," Rachel encourages her, smiling. "You know, you really do look a lot better without all that black shit on your eyes."

"Hey," Tina says, defensive. "I like that black shit."

"This looks a lot better," Rachel assures her while putting a light coat of mascara on her. "Now, look up."

Tina laughs when Rachel starts using a makeup brush on her. "Please. Why're you being so nice to me?"

Rachel smiles. "'Cause you're letting me," she says, laughing.

* * *

While Rachel is helping Tina with her look, Blaine heads over to see Kurt in the janitor's closet. He grabs the key the principal neglected to pick up after him, unlocking the door.

Kurt looks up at him when he comes in. "You lost?" he asks.

Blaine says nothing, smiling as he looks at the other boy, who grins shyly in response.

* * *

Back in the library, Rachel is busy, starting on her essay. She's waiting for Tina to come out of the room – she knows it'll be soon, and she wants to see the look on Mike's face when she does.

Eventually, Tina does come out – dressed in a brighter polka-dot dress that Rachel happened to have in her bag, her hair styled in light curls, and her makeup different. She stands there shyly as Mike looks up at her, completely in awe. She makes her way over to him, and he jumps off the railing he's sitting on and walks towards her, never taking his eyes off her.

Tina looks over to Rachel, who is smirking. Tina makes a face at first, but then smiles at her. "Thank you," she whispers to her.

* * *

Blaine walks over to where Kurt is sitting, and kisses him on his neck. Kurt stares at him.

"Why'd you do that?" he asks, shocked.

"'Cause I knew you wouldn't," Blaine admits with a smile.

Kurt nods. "You know how you said before, how your parents used you to get back at each other? Wouldn't I be _outstanding_ in that capacity?" he says, voice low as if it were an offer he was making.

Blaine, who up until now has been looking at Kurt's lips, looks up into his blue eyes. "Were you really disgusted about what I did with the cherry?" he asks.

"Truth?" Kurt asks him.

"Truth."

Kurt nods his head, but at the same time, he tells him, "No."

Blaine grins, laughing softly.

* * *

"What happened to you?" Mike asks Tina, whose eyes go wide.

"Why?" she asks defensively. "Rachel did it!" He doesn't say anything, just looking at her. "What's wrong?" she asks.

"Nothing's wrong," he says quietly, grinning like an excited puppy. "It's just so different. I can see your face."

"Is that good or bad?" Tina asks, smiling.

"It's good," Mike whispers, nodding to himself. They smile at each other.

* * *

It doesn't take long for Rachel to finish her essay. When she has it all done, she kisses the paper, happy with how it turned out.

Having finished the essay and given Tina a successful makeover, she smiles, and gives herself a congratulatory punch on the arm.

She finally did something right, even if it wasn't a soufflé.

* * *

As the five of them walk down the halls of McKinley High for the last time that Saturday, they pass by Will again, who is sweeping up the school. Rachel waves at him.

"Hey, Rach," he tells her.

"Hey, Mr. Schue," she says pleasantly.

"See you next Saturday," a grinning Kurt tells Will.

Will laughs. "You bet." He watches them leave down the hall, putting a hand to his hip.

* * *

Rachel's dad – Leroy Berry, her other father – is waiting for her when she gets out of the school. Not looking back at the others, she climbs in the car, and looks at her father, cautious.

* * *

Mike and Tina walk down the steps, swinging their hands together. When they get to the bottom of the steps, Mike takes his sweatshirt, and pulls it around her shoulders that were bare from Rachel's dress. He looks into her eyes, and kisses her just then. When they break apart, Tina is bouncing up and down in excitement and nerves.

Reaching into her bag, Tina grins and she produces Mike's wallet, holding it up for him to see. He tries to hold onto her as she moves backwards, reaching her parent's car where her dad is inside waiting. She gives him a quiet look before she gets into the car, just as Mike's dad pulls up.

His father stares after Tina before driving his son home, but he doesn't say anything to him just yet about it. Mike looks back at Tina as the car drives off.

* * *

Blaine's dad pulls up into the school, but he doesn't get into the car just yet. For a moment, he stays with Kurt, as his dad watches from the front seat.

"Here," he tells him, taking off his bow-tie and putting it into Kurt's hand. Blaine closes his hand around it, letting his hands rest on Kurt's.

Kurt leans in slowly to kiss him, and Blaine lets him. When he pushes into it, however, Blaine pulls away, letting Kurt's head rest on his shoulder.

Blaine makes his way the passenger seat, Kurt's eyes following him as he goes. They look after each other as his dad drives away, and it's only until Blaine's car is gone completely that Kurt starts walking. He opens his palm first, and fastens the green bow-tie around his neck just as the car drives away, hoping that Blaine can see what he's doing.

When the car's disappeared from sight, he makes his way across the school's football field, taking his glasses out of his leather jacket to put them on. Halfway across the field, he can't contain his excitement any longer, and thrusts his fist in the air in a silent cheer, very pleased by this Saturday's turn of events.

* * *

Menkins comes into the library to tell the kids they're free to leave, but he's too late – by the time he enters the empty room, they're all gone, and only a single piece of paper has been left on the tables. He picks it up, and reads:

_Dear Mr. Menkins,_

_We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was that we did wrong. What we did was wrong. But we think you're crazy to make us write this essay telling you who we think we are. What do you care? You see us as you want to see us: in the simplest terms, and the most convenient definitions. You see us as a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a prince, and a criminal. Correct? That's the way we saw each other at seven o'clock this morning. We were brainwashed..._

_But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain, and an athlete, and a basket case, a prince, and a criminal. Does that answer your question?_

_Sincerely yours,_

_the Breakfast Club._


End file.
